


what the hell is a lillesand anyway?

by novajanna



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 21:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novajanna/pseuds/novajanna
Summary: Written forthis prompt(Danny is finally moving into a new place and goes shopping for a new bed, Steve tags along.)





	what the hell is a lillesand anyway?

“I really don’t need your help on this one,” Danny says, putting his hands up in front of him. “I know you like being around me and all, but I think I can manage this really dangerous and incredibly exciting shopping trip all on my own. And, weirdly enough, I’d like to be able to drive to a freaking furniture store without any risk of death, if that’s okay with you.”

“Danno,” Steve starts, and Danny huffs out a breath and starts to walk away, but Steve just follows him. “You clearly can’t do this on your own.”

“Oh no?” Danny asks, turning on his heels to raise his eyebrows at Steve. “You know, I’ve been an adult for over ten years now, I am capable of driving to a store, browsing around it, maybe even asking someone for assistance – I’m okay at talking to people, even, I don’t know if you noticed-”

“Oh, I noticed,” Steve says, but it’s under his breath, like he doesn’t expect it to even make a dent in Danny’s deluge.

“-And then purchasing my own goddamned bed.”

“Danny,” Steve says, and Danny stops, hands on his hips. Steve suspects it’s the one concession that Danny’s going to allow, since Steve refrained from the nickname. “You were sleeping on a fold-out.”

Danny throws his hands in the air. “For a little while, just as long as it took me to get settled, and now I’m settled and I’m fixing the problem, okay? I am a problem-solver, I get shit done.”

“It took you six months to be settled enough that you were ready to buy a real bed?” Steve asks, sceptical, and he just climbs in the passenger seat of Danny’s car, grinning over at him. “Come on, Danny, this is a big step, moving into a real apartment.”

Danny sighs and thumps his head against the steering wheel. “We could sit here all night, you know. Until you get the fuck out of my car and leave me to my errands in peace.”

“We could,” Steve says agreeably.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“Are you doubting how stubborn I can be?”

Danny snorts and starts the car. “Doubt your stubbornness? I wouldn’t dare. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more obstinate person in my life. What I don’t understand is why you even need to come on this errand. Why you want to. It’s bed shopping.”

“I’m worried about your sleep, Danny. If you don’t get enough sleep, then you can’t do your job.”

“It is not within your official capacity as commander of our unit to be buying a bed with me, McGarrett. And hey, can we just discuss, for one teeny second, that I have managed to keep up with your bullshit for the past six months even with my apparently shitty sleep? Which, also, what the fuck would you know about how I’m sleeping, huh?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, and when Danny glances over at him he’s just smiling slightly, the insufferable jackass, smirking, even. So he gives up and resigns himself to Steve offering his patented SEAL opinion on such life-or-death matters as what kind of bed Danny needs, and tries not to drive too angrily.

***

“IKEA?” Steve asks, and Danny grinds his teeth.

“Do you have a problem with IKEA?” Danny asks, getting out of the car and slamming the door. “Not that I really care if you do, of course, since it’s my fucking bed we’re buying. But please, share your thoughts.”

“Your version of getting settled is going to a furniture store frequented by college students?” Steve asks, falling into step with Danny as he stalks across the parking lot.

“I like IKEA, okay?” Danny says, but then they’re stepping in the doors and he looks visibly repulsed by the displays in front of him.

“You hate IKEA,” Steve observes, and Danny puts his hand to his forehead.

“Yes, yes I do. Stunning detective work, as always. With the passion of a thousand fiery suns, I hate this place and how it reminds me of the shittiest apartments I’ve ever lived in-”

“Like your last one?” Steve asks, but Danny is more than used to ignoring those jabs.

“-and I hate how it’s just this giant warehouse maze and if you forget something you have to walk all the way back through the stupid displays, and none of the tags are ever right and how everything is written in some made up language like it’s fucking artsy or something, I don’t know. And the whole goddamned place smells like cinnamon buns.”

“I assumed you’d appreciate that aspect.”

“Well, I don’t, okay,” Danny says, and snatches a card and a pencil from the bin by the door. “And I fucking hate tiny pencils.”

“Now you’re just picking random things to be angry at,” Steve says.

“And I hate having to try and put everything together using their terrible instructions, because there are no words and the pictures are the least helpful things on the planet.”

“I’ll help you put everything together, don’t even worry,” Steve says, striding behind Danny at an easy pace.

“What, that’s something they teach you in SEAL school?”

“How to decipher images?” Steve says. “Actually, it’s fairly simple. Elementary school more or less had me up to speed on that one.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Danny says, stopping abruptly in the lighting section to stare at a lamp. “What even is this thing?” he asks, looking at a twisted piece of white material that is somehow emitting light.

“I think it’s a lamp, Danny,” Steve says, even though he’s not really sure what the appeal is, either, but Danny is already stomping off through the displays, narrowly avoiding knocking over cheap vases with stupid names.

***

“You’re not buying a mattress here, are you?” Steve says, looking at Danny as he sprawls out on a bed, fingers laced over his chest.

“Yes, Steve, yes I am,” Danny says, staring at the ceiling and gesturing with his hands. “I am going to buy a bed and a mattress here, and then I’m going to go home and assemble it, and then tonight, I am going to sleep peacefully, exhausted after a few hours of having to make pleasant conversation with you.”

“You call this pleasant?” Steve asks, but he slides onto the bed next to Danny. Danny freezes for a moment, like he can’t decide whether he wants to move closer or further away. Steve can feel the warmth coming off of him, wonders if Danny’s skin is flushed underneath that nice button-up. “This mattress is too soft.” There’s a long pause, and when Steve turns to look at Danny, Danny is glaring at him. “What?”

“What if I like my mattress to be soft, huh?”

“It’s not good for your back,” Steve says.

“Who made you a doctor?” Danny grumbles, but he rolls off the bed and moves onto the next one.

“I don’t like this one,” Steve says, looking at the black box of a bed frame.

“Well, that’s just swell,” Danny says, shifting a little on the bed. “You just keep on sharing your opinions on things like they matter, and I’ll just keep on ignoring you.”

Steve slides onto the bed next to him, listens to Danny breathe for a few beats. “It’s not a very comfortable mattress.”

“This one too firm for you, Goldilocks?” Danny says. “We do this all day, eventually I guess we’ll find one that’s just right. Which will be stupendous, since I really want you to be comfortable on my mattress.”

“Is this your first bed together?” a sales assistant asks, standing at the foot of the bed, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Is this our – what kind of question is that, anyway? Is that something people commemorate, their first bed together?” Danny asks, looking at Steve, and Steve smiles up at the sales assistant.

“It is, actually, yes,” he says. “But we’re hoping for something a little less boxy, maybe more like an iron headboard? Or just something with slats,” Steve smiles at the girl and winks, and she giggles a little and ushers them over to another bed.

“Did you just wink at her?” Danny asks. “Did you actually just – no, you know what? I feel like I should be more worried about the fact that you just told her we were buying a bed together and that apparently we need one that people can be easily _tied to_ , are you insane?”

“I often fantasize about tying you up and gagging you,” Steve says calmly, like they’re talking about the weather, like that’s even really the point.

Danny swallows hard. “Of course your sex life involves bondage.”

“How about this one?” The sales assistant is gesturing to a bed with a wrought-iron headboard, and Steve, the insane jackass that he is, goes over and shakes it a little, like he’s testing it.

“Oh yeah, I think this one would definitely work,” he says, and looks at Danny, and Danny can’t do anything but roll his eyes and test out the mattress.

“Sure,” he says to the sales assistant, resigned and valiantly ignoring Steve’s smirk. “I’ll take it.”

***

Of course, they have to walk through the rest of the goddamned store before they can actually leave – “They really think they’re going to trick me into buying more stuff? Who are they fooling, anyway? Who buys furniture on impulse?” - but Danny gets side-tracked in the kids section.

“Maybe Grace could have a desk,” he says, hands in his pockets as he surveys the brightly coloured furniture. “There’s enough room in the new place.”

“I’d just like to point that you are, in fact, the type of person who buys furniture on impulse,” Steve says, and Danny shrugs.

“Haven’t bought anything yet,” he says, but they both know he’s going to. “What about this one?” Danny asks, gesturing at a small blue desk. “Oh, what do you know about buying anything for a kid? You’re probably assessing which one would be the best cover in a firefight or something suitably insane.”

“This one would be good,” Steve says, resting his hand on a sturdy wooden desk with pink accents.

Danny looks at him incredulously. “As cover in a firefight?”

Steve grins. “For Grace.”

“Oh.” Danny pauses, looks at the desk. “Yeah, you know – she’d like that one.”

***

Once they’re through the checkout, Danny stops to buy a cinnamon bun from the café, complete with frosting. “See, it’s not all bad, is it?” Steve asks, and Danny just scowls and thrust the bag at him.

"It's for you, asshole. Thanks ever so much for accompanying me on this shitty errand." And Danny can scowl all he wants, but Steve knows him better than that.

“Thanks,” he says, and breaks off a piece to hand to Danny, taking one for himself.

***

“What are you doing?” Danny asks as Steve gets out of the car with him.

“Helping you assemble,” Steve says, opening the trunk. “Didn’t I agree to help you assemble things?”

“Okay, hold on just one second,” Danny says, slamming the trunk closed. “’Agree’ implies that I asked you, somehow, if you would grace me with your expertise at putting together shitty furniture, and I did not. Not for one second did it even cross my mind to ask you to help me _assemble_ , as you put it, since I am perfectly capable of doing so on my own. I do not need your help, I did not ask for your help, you can just drive off into the distance now.”

“Danny, you gave me a ride,” Steve points out, and sighs when Danny thwarts his attempt to open the trunk again.

“I did not,” Danny says. “Because you know what that implies?”

“Danny, can we just-” But Danny holds up a hand, and Steve rolls his eyes. “No, Danny, what does it imply? Enlighten me.”

“It implies that you asked or that I volunteered. Muscling your way into my car and following me around on my personal errands is not really me giving you a ride. It’s not like I don’t see enough of you, McGarrett, honestly.”

“Are you done?” Steve asks, and Danny shrugs. “No, really, I want to be sure. Are you finished?”

“I think I’m done, yeah, sure,” Danny says, and crosses his arms.

“I’m helping you because I want to help you,” Steve says, using his Commander voice, and Danny would point it out but Steve is already opening the trunk and hauling boxes over his shoulder, walking towards Danny’s new apartment. Danny sighs and grabs a box of his own, following along the path.

“I am still completely and utterly baffled as to why you are here,” Danny says, tossing Steve the keys so he can unlock the front door.

“I’m a good guy, Danny, I like to help out.”

“I do not _need_ your help, I’m not sure how many times I can say this.”

“Jesus, Danny, it’s like you have some sort of complex. My assistance in assembling your new bed does not in any way take away from your manhood, okay?”

“My what?” Danny says, setting down his box maybe a little too heavily in the hallway. “My manhood? Did you really just say that? You have got to stay away from those Harlequins, buddy, they’re turning your brain to mush. Honestly. Just – this is not about my, my, manhood, what the fuck. It is about you needing to be around me all the time, in my space.”

“Maybe I like being around you,” Steve says easily, setting down his box and passing by Danny to head back out to the car.

“Maybe you – yeah, well that’s just great. Do I make your knees weak? Does your heart beat faster? Butterflies in your stomach?” Danny asks, following him out the door.

“As a matter of fact, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to lift this.” Steve grins as Danny throws his hands in the air. “Just let me help.”

Danny huffs out a breath. “Fine, but just this once.”

“Just this once? What, I’m never allowed to help you ever again?”

“No, no you’re not,” Danny says. “Not even if my life depends on it. I can die happy knowing that I never had to have one Steve McGarrett help me ever again.”

“I feel pretty sorry for Grace,” Steve says, and Danny sticks his finger at him.

“You shut your mouth,” he says, and his tone is all business, but Steve knows him well enough to see the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

***

Danny is absolutely terrible at assembling IKEA furniture. He has zero patience for it – surprise, surprise – and he spends about as much time ranting about the awful instructions as he does actually trying to put things together. Eventually Steve sends him off to get a beer and finishes off the bed himself.

When Danny comes back into the room, Steve is using some adhesive to re-attach one of the desk’s handles that somehow managed to fall off (Steve is sure it has nothing to do with Danny throwing it across the room in frustration). “Where did that adhesive come from?”

“My pocket?” Steve says, holding the handle to the drawer.

“You carry adhesive in your – actually, no, of course you do, what am I thinking. I wouldn’t expect anything less, in fact.” Danny sits down on the edge of the bed. “Wait a second, are you using some industrial strength adhesive on a kid’s desk? Did you check to make sure that it wasn’t poisonous first?”

“She’s not going to eat the desk,” Steve says, but Danny snatches the tube from the floor and starts reading the label. He eventually glances up from the tube, staring at Steve, who is checking to make sure the handle is firmly affixed. “You know, I have spent the past few hours using all my considerable deductive powers to work out what, exactly, you are still doing here, helping me assemble furniture-”

“Helping you?” Steve asks, looking between the desk he’s almost finished and Danny, sitting on the edge of the bed with a beer.

“Yes, helping me,” Danny states again, with added emphasis, “But I still cannot work out what the hell you’re doing here.”

“Well, I’m sort of invested in this bed,” Steve says, standing and leaning back against the window. He doesn’t say it any different than a normal tease, but Danny has gotten good at reading him – too good, maybe – and Danny stops and cocks his head at Steve like he’s a particularly difficult puzzle Danny has finally figured out.

“Oh really?” Danny says, and that’s a challenge, plain and simple. Steve takes the two steps across the room to push Danny flat on the bed, smoothly sliding the beer onto the end table and sliding a hand up Danny’s chest to loosen his tie. “This is what you call invested?”

“This is what I call invested,” Steve agrees, and sucks a bruise into Danny’s neck, feeling gratified when Danny’s fingers scratch at his back through his shirt.

“I always knew you had ulterior motives,” Danny breathes, and Steve moves to press a kiss to his mouth, catching Danny’s bottom lip between his teeth, just for a second.

He grins down at Danny. “Always. Since the first day I met you, it’s all been about getting you right here.”

“Such an elaborate plan, I’m flattered, truly, the lengths you’ve gone to-” Danny starts, but Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

“For once, you could just shut up,” he says against Danny’s lips, and Danny does.

***

When the bed breaks later that night, Danny blames Steve – “Looks like you’re not such a hot-shot with the instructions then, huh?” – and Steve blames IKEA – “It’s cheap and you can do better, Danny, you know it” – and when they recount the story to Kono and Chin the next day, they leave out the bits that involved Steve being tied to the headboard with Danny’s ties.  


**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/)**tailoredshirt** for basically forcing me to watch the show - which was only ever going to lead to this, let's be honest - and for putting up with me sending her snippets. Also for editing.


End file.
